Category

Stories

Stories

Lost Years

The market was stilled, the stalls soulless. Sheets of yesterday’s news blew around in the chilled wind, like tumbleweed in a western ghost town. As the clock of St Martin’s church struck the hour of 5am, a solitary, stooped figure emerged from the shadows. Annie was bone weary. Icy blasts…
Jan Hedger
30th July 2008
Stories

Heroes, Every One

When I was a lad, (how often have we heard that phrase from our elders and betters), my heroes were not those of my peers. My mates spoke in hushed tones of Tommy Lawton, Nat Lofthouse, Johnny Haynes and, of course, the incomparable Stan Matthews. Not that I disliked sport…
Roland Gardner
27th July 2008
Stories

Johnny Bennett age 8 (ish)

Don’t want to go to school. Feel sick! Don’t like Miss Prendergast, she smells, like boiled cabbage and sweaty socks. And she’s got wart, a great big one on the side of her nose. I know it’s a wart cos I had one on my finger and mam put some…
Jan Hedger
27th July 2008